The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1887-07-08
ONE OLD MAID.

A lowering morning which made one
wish for the sunny south or for Italy, for
any place which would make one feel hap
pier than could this dismal morning in
Wisconsin. And then to think that this
train could not make connection with the
eastward bound train! 1t is hard enough
to stop at such a miserable little junction
at any time, but to spend three hours here
this dark morning must prove the very re-
finement of torture. There are a dozen
passengers who must wait and who pre-
pare to make the best of their stay here.
One couple, evidently just married, find the
clouds of Il very rosy color, and they walk
out of the smoky old depot to make a tour
of the little town, talking eagerly the
while. Two young fellows wander uneasily
about. reading all the old tattered posters,
glowing inducements to so west, and an
cient time tables, which Invariably deco
rate the stained walls of a country depot.
These young fellows finally utter exclama-
tions of Impotence at the dreary monotony
and go across the street to the hotel, hop
ing to find something there more congenial
to them.
Two ladies at once take their departure
for the hotel, and other people stroll
out about the depot, and there are left two
persons, a man and woman, who, after n
little time, settle themselves to reading to
pass away the weary moments. He reads
his paper and she her book, and, OCCASION
ally, woman like, she casts n look at her
silent companion, wondering what loved
ones are awaiting his arrival, and whether
he is impatient to greet them, or il he
feels a mans stOicism in regard to it.; won
dering, too, how it is that each woman
thinks the masculine lives connected with
hers so full of manly graees and beauty,
and who could find manly beauty in those
rugged features? Then she Turned her
gentle eyes toward the dirty window and
looked out at the dreary landscape, looked
with eyes which saw not outward objects
but We're retrospective solely. An old
maid, commonly supposed to be the type
of discomfort and unrest, but here, evil
pressed the utmost OF content. Life had
been filled with much of sorrow for her,
all her bright plans had failed of fruition;
one after another she had hidden goodbye
to them and had turned bravcly again to
face the coming of a new future, a future
to be peopled again,by her bright fancies
the old faneies all dead and gone from
her except as they fingered in memory.
An old maid she is. as far as years go,
but no home is happier than her little ideal
home. She had filled it's rooms with bright
little faces eagerly calling to mother, and
the dream-father is strong, earnest, helpful
and loving. Her drcam-home is happier
far than many a fine lady's real home,
although she has no pictured any grandeur
about it. Oh, no, she dreams that the ear
pets are faded from much sunlight, and
worn from the tread of many little feet,
that there is much planning to make both
ends meet, y but she has imagined unselfish-
utoo III III hoihNi ui iOflti5 ui-
selfishness can make all trials in regard to
ways and means seen very slight indeed.
Her companion in ibis depot is an elderly
person, a stout, large man, with keen eyes
and Il mouth at complete odds with the
eyes, not belonging to them, apparently.
Often eyes do not harmonic in colOring
with the rest of q face, but generally ex-
prcssions are strongly akin. This man had
a sensitive mouth, one with a mournful
droop TO it. Those who looked at him
caught themselves wondering which would
conquer-kecn, hard eyes, or sensitive
mouth. He read for some time, then gave
a quick look at the thoughtful face near
him, and said, abruptly. "lNot n very
pleasant arrangement, this"
A quick flash passed over the gentle
face before him, a flush which his keen
eyes noted instantly and understood, a
flush which told of the girlishness yet left
to this lonely woman.
"Not that it matters much to me where
| am" he continued. "Lire can't give me
anything harder than I've had"
'"That is a sad thing to say" she said,
in her timid way.
"a true thing, though" he responded,
and the corners of his sensitive mouth
dropped Il little more. II feel as il | had
nothing left to live for. My wife died
q year ago and here the voice
broke. Distress ever calls some souls out
from their reserve, and hers was such a
one, and she said, quickly: "Ah, you
have all those vanished days and months
and years to remember, all the loneliness
of her life to think Of now
GLOW did you know her life was
lovely" he queried, a little sharply.
She hesitated 4 moment, then said,
simply: at must have been, or you
would not miss her from your living SO
much" a tribute to the manly worth in
the face she saw before her which was rel
ished by the owner of the face. lie sighed
and then looked for n time ont OF the
smoky window, then said: after all,
life is a strange muddIc, and receiving a
look of understanding in response to this
sentiment, he went on: ave don't know
what is right TO do, and yet We are punish
ed by fixed laws if we don't do the right.
That doesn't seem just to me-
.N. Il 81 u~-.. l,l - ~. s.l.t 10 thn